


Insanity

by itsnotlove



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Confusion, Courtroom Drama, Denial of Feelings, F/M, I'm not going to tag very much because I don't want to give it away c:, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:10:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8094583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsnotlove/pseuds/itsnotlove
Summary: “The court will now hear this case based on the charge against you that has just now been read by the public prosecutor. Please listen carefully to what I am about to tell you.”
 There's no summary for this story (as it might ruin the fun), but if you liked my other works, I think you'll enjoy this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pixietails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixietails/gifts), [hushitisme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hushitisme/gifts).



“The court is now in session. Will the defendant please step forward.”

The slender looking man rose from his chair and walked toward the witness stand. Despite his pleasant smile, his mind was in overdrive. He thought that he might know this judge, but he can’t quite seem to place him. The name sounded familiar, but that’s unsurprising given what he did for a living; he’d already heard half the names in Tokyo at least once.

“Please identify yourself for the court.”

The defendant smiled and recited his personal details to the court. He gave his name, his date of birth, his address, and his (assumed) occupation. His tone was polite but his voice soft, forcing each member of the court to stay quiet so they might hear him.

It’s a last ditch attempt at seizing some semblance of control, but one that has probably been used by multiple people in his position. Still, he’s never been one to let something like that stop him. Once he, the defendant, finished, the judge made a quick note before speaking once again.

“The trial is now being held regarding the charge against you of homicide. Please listen as the prosecutor reads from the charge sheet.”

The prosecutor was young. He’d probably only been in this position for a year or two, but his conviction rate was already a popular talking point in certain circles. He read the charges happily, reflecting the defendants pleasant smile back to him as he spoke. If they hadn’t been in the courtroom, they might have been mistaken for close acquaintances at a dinner party.

Once the prosecutor had finished and reclaimed his seat, the Judge turned back toward the defendant.

“The court will now hear this case based on the charge against you that has just now been read by the public prosecutor. Please listen carefully to what I am about to tell you.”

The defendant nodded earnestly, feigning both ignorance and innocence. Taking a breath, the judges expression clearly showed that he wasn’t buying the act.

“You have the right to remain silent, you may refuse to answer some of the questions asked, and you may remain silent throughout the trial should you wish. Any statement made by you in this court can be used as evidence either for you, or as evidence against you. Before you answer any questions, you must keep these points in mind. Do you understand?”

The defendant noded again, quickly adding a “Yes, I do,” once it became clear that he needed to verbally agree.

“Do you have anything you would like to say in response to the charges laid against you?”

Humming in thought, the defendant tilted his head to one side and furrowed his brow. He knew what he wanted to say already, and had for a while, but he just couldn’t resist letting the pressure build. He had been waiting for this moment, and he wanted to savour it. There will be no applause after he speaks, though that’s only because he has enough self control to stop his own hands from moving. After all, this is a momentous occasion! It’s something that should be celebrated, and he had no doubt that most of the justice system would likely agreed with him.

His pause was just long enough to make everyone waiting on him uncomfortable, almost urging them to fill the silence with their own statements or questions. It’s only when his spectators began to look at each other nervously that he finally felt that enough time has passed. Straightening himself in his chair, he wet his lip and basked in the feeling of all the eyes in the courtroom focusing on him.

He leaned forward, and his smile contorted into something a little more sinister. Apparently done with keeping up the charade of an innocent man, his voice became far more commanding than it had been previously.

“I am not guilty by reason of temporary insanity.” He said slowly, wondering if this defence would really work. It’s a gamble, but that only made it all the more fun. “After being driven insane, I no longer had the capacity to think or react in a civilised manner.”

“Are you saying that you committed the murder?”

“Yes.” His eyes widened, looking almost crazed as his lips split and twist further apart. His jaw opened, revealing his too-white teeth and making him look as insane as he’s pretending he once was.

“I killed Shizu-chan.”

  

 

 

******

 

 

 

**_Two months earlier_ **

 

 

“IIII-ZAAAAAA-YAAAAA-KUUUUUUN! I TOLD YOU TO STAY OUTTA ‘BUKURO!”

After ducking and weaving himself away from the parking metre that had been thrown his way, Izaya chuckled to himself. He was tired, absolutely exhausted, but he couldn’t let Shizuo know that. He held his breath to hide his panting and spun himself around dramatically. It was harder to run backward, but there was a clear path, and he couldn’t _quite_ resist the temptation of seeing Shizuo’s enraged face as he showboated.

“Are you following me home? I don’t think my apartment allows pets _or_ monsters, Shizu-chan.” How long had the chase lasted this time? It must have been at least three hours or so. It wasn’t the longest chase they’d had, but for some reason it had been the most tiring, which certainly explained the distinct lack of creativity in Izaya’s jeers. Of course, that was likely exacerbated by his annoyance at the situation. He’d already been forced to reschedule his last appointment after it had become clear that he couldn’t shake Shizuo, and he _really_ didn’t want this to go on for much longer. “Let me go.”

He interpreted Shizuo’s reply to be a non-verbal- yet incredibly loud- ‘fuck you!’, as it came in the form of a street sign being hurled at him like a javelin. Izaya managed to dodge it, if only barely, and realised that he needed to make a plan. If he couldn’t lose Shizuo, then he’d need to either escape or show the world just what sort of monster he really was.

The decision was made before the thought had even finished, and Izaya adjusted course appropriately. He spun back around and sprinted toward the train station, a screaming Shizuo running close behind him.

  

 

 

******

 

 

 

“Orihara-san, where is your counsel?” The judge asked, watching Izaya with a curious expression. It was probable that he knew the answer already and was just going through the motions for the sake of the typist, but that’s only Izaya’s latest theory.

He’s so certain that he recognised the judge, and even though he once again admited to himself that recognising anyone when you’re an information broker is incredibly common, there was just something about him. Even the way he sat, nestled between the other judges-

Ah, they all seemed familiar, wasn’t that right? Three, including the one who’d been doing most of the talking, were professionals. It was possible that Izaya recognised them because he’d seen them in the newspaper, or because they had their own dirty secrets. The other six, however… they had been randomly selected from the electoral roll.

That wasn’t something that Izaya particularly minded. To be judged as a human, by humans, is a wonderful thing. That his humans could hear the epic tale of how he slayed a monster was truly something he adored. A jury would excite him more, but as they hadn’t been used in over thirty years, Izaya doubted that anyone would indulge him with one. In any case, it wasn’t as though the lay-judge system was much different.

“Orihara-san, did you understand the question?”

“Ah, I’m choosing to represent myself.”

“This is obviously an attempt to game the system!” The prosecutor objected, launching out of his chair with such enthusiasm that it threatened to fall over. He looked over at Izaya, obviously unimpressed (though likely unsurprised) by this stunt.

“A lawyer who represents himself has a fool for a client. If you don’t believe that you can prove a fool guilty, then why are we here?” A second judge asked dryly, as if daring the prosecutor to prove himself. “Haven’t you finished building a case?”

It was as if a switch was flipped, and the prosecutor’s expression changed instantly. He glanced over at Izaya, suddenly looking even younger as he reclaimed his seat, and spoke a little more quietly. “Of course. The evidence will speak for itself, and I have no objections.”

The quiet of the courtroom was unnerving, and Izaya felt each set of eyes turn to him. He wondered briefly if he’d made a mistake by representing himself, but quickly shut down any doubt attempting to claw its way throughout him. There wasn’t an attorney on the planet who could represent him as well as he could represent himself, and with the death penalty on the line, he couldn’t afford to take any undue risks. Besides, the temptation of playing with his defense counsel would probably have proved to be his downfall.

“Orihara-san, do you understand what the choice you are making means?”

“I do.”

“Very well.” Pausing, the judge looked to his colleagues to see if they have any questions. When none spoke up, he looked back toward the prosecutor. “We will now start with the examination of evidence. Please make your opening statement.”

The prosecutor stood more carefully than before, with all that earlier energy cleverly hidden away. He was the vision of calm and collected, and with a straight back, he looked incredibly confident.

“Orihara Izaya murdered Heiwajima Shizuo in cold blood. Insanity- temporary or _otherwise-_ ” He looked toward Izaya, teeth flashing in a disturbing smile before continuing. “-is no excuse. A crime is, and always will be, a crime. Insanity, be it real or imagined, only means that Orihara-san was ignorant of the law at the time of the murder. As upstanding citizens know well, ignorance of a law is not a defence.”

Izaya leaned back in his chair, making himself look even calmer than the prosecutor. It was hard to listen to such drivel, especially when it’s about something as boring as whether killing Shizuo is right or wrong, so he simply decided that he wouldn’t.

There was no need. The prosecutor may be scolding him, but he’d soon move on to the supposed facts of the case. The way Shizuo was murdered. Why he was murdered. The impact the crime has on society as a whole.

It’s boring.

“-which led directly to the death of Heiwajima Shizuo. The prosecution will prove these facts to the court, and will be asking for the death penalty due to the shocking nature of the crime, and the carefree attitude of the defendant. There is no doubt that Orihara Izaya, the man accused of this crime, committed this murder after years of planning, and shows absolutely no remorse for his actions.”

Once the prosecutor finished, he took his seat and busied himself with his notes. It’s most likely a tactic- an attempt to look even more disinterested in Izaya’s statement. Still, the prosecutor couldn’t really seem to stop himself from glancing at the defendant from the corner of his eye, trying to gauge how his opening statement had affected him.

The neutral expression on Izaya’s face betrayed nothing, and should be disheartening. Yet, the prosecutor smiled proudly. It’s unnerving, and almost sent a shiver down Izaya’s spine.

Almost.

It only served to make the game more exciting though Izaya knows he shouldn’t allow himself to be so easily provoked. The rush he felt as the prosecutor silently gloated made being on trial almost worth the trouble.

“Orihara-san, you may now make your opening statement, but I must remind you that anything you say can be used as evidence against you in this trial.” The judge spoke clearly and seriously, but looked almost jolly. It honestly seemed as though he was enjoying this strange trial, but whether that would help or hinder Izaya was still up for debate.

“Thank you for the reminder.” Izaya responded, lazily readjusting his tie as he leisurely rose from his seat. He’d been preparing for this mentally over the last decade, but now that it was finally opening night, it felt nowhere near as good as he’d been expecting.

Maybe it would feel better if he had any real memory of the murder.

  

 

 

******

 

 

 

**_Two months earlier_ **

 

 

Everything hurt, but that only forced Izaya to push himself harder.

The burning in his calves from the non-stop running, the ache in his shoulder from where the garbage bin clipped him, the pounding in his skull from dehydration- it was _beautiful._

How human he was! How alive!

The thundering behind him was steadily growing closer, but no more objects were being thrown. Shizuo had grown tired, maybe. Even a beast would have its limits, surely, but as fascinating a thought as that was, Izaya didn’t turn around. He kept running, and running, and running.

The horrified gasps and whispers, the small cries and pleas- they were a symphony. The travellers surrounding him were nothing more than an orchestra, and he and Shizuo were conducting. Well, maybe not Shizuo. He was too ignorant to do anything more than chase Izaya, so he was likely just the brass section.

Izaya jumped the turnstile and put everything he had left into his run. He’d timed this perfectly, and if he could just _keep running_ then surely everything would be just fine. The idea that he was slowing down because his limbs had reached their limit was laughable. It was all an illusion, and nothing close to a reality. He just had to keep moving, faster and faster. No looking back- don’t laugh, don’t breath- just _move_.

The roar of the monster behind him spurred him on, energising him just enough to _push a little harder._ The doors of the train were closing, but he was close enough now to see the whites of the passengers eyes. Just a little harder, a little faster…

With the last of his energy, Izaya leapt forward, crashing through the half closed doors of the train. He landed on the ground with a loud thud, somehow tangled amongst the ankles of other passengers.

But Shizuo had been so close that there was no time to lounge. Bracing himself for impact, Izaya struggled to his feet as the train started to shift. He settled into a defensive position before he looked out through the closing doors, but found himself faltering.

This wasn’t right. It wasn’t _normal._

A rare but honest look of confusion clouded his features as he watched Shizuo through the doors, wondering just what it was he was doing. Was this a delayed attack, or had he become distracted by the large, shiny object that was the train? No, no there was something deliberate about the way he was looking in the windows.

The train started to pull away, but Izaya kept his eyes on Shizuo. His arm dropped to his side when it really sunk in that Shizuo wasn’t planning to attack at all. He was just going to stand there, watching Izaya leave.Desperate to see what else Shizuo might do, Izaya bumped and pushed his way down the train, craning his head over those interrupting his line of sight so that he could watch for a little longer. It was horrid really, absolutely disgusting behaviour on his part, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Especially not when Shizuo turned and seemed to _wave_ to him over his shoulder.

Everything about the situation was disturbing, and enough for Izaya to almost forget why he’d come Ikebukuro in the first place. Resigning himself to another day lost to Shizuo, he sunk into the recently vacated seat beside him and stared out the window. He’d have to go home and recover before he did anything. It’s the only way he’d be able to process the situation.

  

 

 

******

 

 

 

By the time Izaya was seated once again, he couldn’t seem to remember whether he’d spoken or not. His tongue was dry and sticking awkwardly to his teeth, and the room felt a little too warm. After years of waiting for this moment, it passed far too quickly and left nothing but a headache in its wake.

Nevertheless, the judges looked satisfied, and the prosecutor unnerved, which meant that Izaya’s speech had at least done what it was supposed to do. If he were in a more Western country, then he might’ve even wagered that he’d be getting off scot-free.

But alas, he was in Japan. There’d be no way that the three professional judges would let the randomly selected ones acquit him just because they’d had their heartstrings tugged. The professional judges would almost certainly veto it if they were unable to explain it to their superiors.

Well, even if it everything were to fail and he was sent to die, it _had_ been fun to play with the minds and hearts of such willing humans.

“If everyone has said their piece, we shall commence with an examination of evidence. ”

As the prosecutor stood once again, Izaya noticed that he’d managed to shrug off any feelings he may have had after Izaya’s statement. He must have thought that the evidence would speak for itself, and might even feel a little cocky.

Of course, if Izaya _had_ killed Shizuo, then there’d be no evidence left to tie him to the crime. Unlike that idiotic protozoan, Izaya wasn’t willing to let himself rot in prison after murdering him. There would be no evidence left, no witnesses, no-

Then what did the prosecutor have? Izaya’s toes scrunched tightly as he fought to remember. Had he even seen the evidence? Surely he would have been allowed to, but it all seemed to be a blur.

Standing quickly, Izaya let his chair scrape across the floor so as to alert the court to his movements. All eyes turned toward him, and he waited for the judges to acknowledge him.

“Orihara-san, if you take issue with the evidence presented, you can say so during your own time.”

“This evidence was never presented to m-”

“We have a signed acknowledgement from Orihara-san which proves he received the evidence I am presenting.”

“I’m sure you do, but that does-”

“Will the prosecution please present this statement to the court.”

The prosecutor flipped through his paperwork, quickly locating the acknowledgment. It was taken from him and given to the judge who’d spoken, the others leaning toward him in order to inspect it.

“Orihara-san, this appears to be your signature.”

“It might look like mine, but I can attest to the fact that it is not.”

“If you are accusing an officer of this court of an illegal act, you will need more than that.” The judge looked at Izaya sternly, as if daring him to continue. “You may voice your concerns once this session has concluded.”

Izaya shot a loaded look at the Prosecutor, who seemed bored by the events. His head throbbed, the pain behind his eyes making all of this far more difficult than it ought to be. Regardless of whatever evidence there may or may not be, Izaya was sure that he’d be able to refute it. There wouldn’t be anything that could tie him to Shizuo’s murder, so this was all just an inconvenience.

He reclaimed his seat without another word, perhaps scolding himself for speaking up without more of a plan in the first place. If only he’d been listening to the prosecutor, then he would have known what evidence they had. As he hadn’t, well, it would all be a wonderful surprise.

“Do you have anything further to add?” The judge asked the prosecutor, who shook his head slightly in reply. “Very well. Then we will examine the first witness.”

 _Witnesses?!_ Izaya fought the urge to laugh. If he’d truly killed Shizuo, then surely there wouldn’t be any witnesses.

“Please step up to the witness stand, Shiki-san.”


End file.
